First for a Plum
by Born of Stars
Summary: One for the Money from Ranger's point of view. Rated for occasional swearing. Please R&R!
1. Meetings

First for a Plum

Chapter One

I loaded my skip into my black truck, which was parked one block down from the skip's run-down apartment building. His hands were cuffed behind his back, making it easy for me to push his head down and steer him into the back seat of the Dodge Ram sitting at the curb.

15 minutes later, I'd delivered him to Trenton Police Station and picked up my body receipt. I was idling at the traffic lights two streets down from the police station when my pager went off. It was the Vincent Plum Bail Bonds office number – not the number to Vinnie's inner office itself (thankfully) but the normal office number. Meaning Connie.

Vinnie was a rat. He'd set up Vincent Plum Bail Bonds and provided me with regular skips, but that didn't make him any less of a rat. Stories flew like wildfire about him, none of which I needed to hear. Half of which, I was probably at least temporarily psychologically damaged from hearing. Vinnie wasn't too fussy about women, to say the least. Or species. Or even gender. Another of those things I really didn't need to hear. Connie was Vinnie's secretary. Most women would've quit, had they worked for Vinnie for that long. Connie still survived mainly because she didn't put up with anything.

I grabbed my phone from the dash and dialled the office number, hoping I was right in presuming it was Connie that wanted to talk to me. I was.

"Ranger? Hey, could do you me a favour?"

I frowned. What could Connie be asking from me as a favour? I remained silent and waited until she explained.

"Could you help this new girl out? She really needs money, so I told her to try skip tracing. I reckon she's probably got what it takes with a bit of guidance. Could you give her a hand and show her the ropes? She really needs a bit of a hand, becoming a badass bounty hunter."

Connie was asking me to help a _new girl_ out? I wondered why this girl would want to become a bounty hunter, of all things. Sure, she might need money, but there were other ways of getting it. Collecting skips was only a minor part of my income. Why would this woman what to do this though?

"Please, Ranger? Look – why don't meet her at for lunch, you can talk to her then?"

"Where?"

"Frailoli's. It's a café downtown."

"She got a name?"

"Yup. Stephanie Plum. I guess that's a yes, then?"

"Yes. Tell her to meet me there in 45."

I disconnected and headed over to the Rangeman building. I still had a few things to wrap up, and at any rate, it was still quite early. Thirty five minutes later, I'd made five calls, sorted out another case, attended a meeting and was headed over to Frailoli's. I'd also run a quick background check on Stephanie Plum, more out of habit rather than any real threat. She'd been a lingerie buyer six months ago, before the company she'd worked for had been taken over and she'd been laid off. A few small jobs since then, nothing overly well-paid. Divorced once. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than medical records suggesting a rather adventurous childhood for the area she grew up in and a few speeding fines. Entering the café, I got a table at the back of the room, sitting with my back to the wall, scanning the room.

The door chimed, and my eyes locked on the woman entering the café. 5'7", slim, with wild brown curls surrounding her face and startlingly blue eyes. She looked Italian, her age around mine or perhaps slightly younger. Her eyes had a sparkle to them, one that entranced and captured. They spoke of a powerful personality, and a determination. There was also something else, something I couldn't quite pick out. A hurt? I frowned slightly. What was it?

My eyes ran lingeringly over the rest of her face, taking in the delicate features, with the exception of shaped cheek bones. My breath caught very slightly as my gaze wandered. Her body was slim, with long legs encased in a pair of worn jeans and a chest pretty without being overpowering. My eyes kept being drawn back to hers, though. There was something in them I couldn't quite understand. Something that fascinated me. She was beautiful.

Her blue eyes scanned over the room, and after a couple of minutes focussed on me. This was Stephanie Plum? Or just another woman? She hesitated slightly, those eyes scanning my face questioningly, before she moved through the scatter of tables to stand it front of me. I looked up at her, one eyebrow raised, as she held out her hand.

"Manoso? My name's Stephanie Plum."

Wow. Regardless of what I'd thought, skip tracing or bounty huntering – however you wanted to put it – was still a tough job. I supposed she might be able to do some of the really low bond skips, but still, skips could be awfully unpredictable. Gotta say, though, she's got a lot of guts, if she's willing to try it out. I wonder how long she'll last…

I shook her hand firmly, then motioned for her to take a seat. Leaning back on my chair, I grinned at her.

"Sooooo, Connie says I'm supposed to make you into a badass fugitive apprehension agent. She says you need to get a crash course. What's the rush?"

She looked at me. "You see the brown Nova at the curb?"

My eyes flicked to the front window, and the street beyond. Sitting at the curb was…I'm not sure it could actually classify as a car. Once a Chevy Nova, it was now almost completely covered in rust, and covered in dents. It wasn't the worst state I'd seen a car in, but it was close. I'd seen a lot. Judging from the outside of it, I'm surprised it even started, and would be even more surprised if it had all its inside parts intact. This wasn't a car anyone would drive through choice. This was a car for the desperate, and only that.

My eyes returned to the woman in front of me. "Uh huh."

"That's my car."

Lucky her. I nodded slightly. "So you need money. Anything else?"

"Personal reasons."

"Bond enforcement is a dangerous business. Those personal reasons better be pretty fucking good." I didn't know her that well, but that didn't mean I didn't want her to get hurt doing this when she could get money elsewhere. And having been a bounty hunter for some time, I knew there was a fair chance of it.

"What are your reasons for doing this?" she asked me.

I lifted my hands in a palms up gesture. "It's what I do best."

"Maybe someday I'll be good at this too. Right now my motive is steady employment."

"Vinnie give you a skip?"

"Joseph Morelli." she replied.

I tipped my head back and laughed out loud. _Morelli?_ This was a cop who had once been in the navy. And Vinnie was sending a lingerie buyer after him. Jeez. I managed to contain my laugher, but was still grinning broadly and shaking my head when I turned my attention back to Stephanie.

"Oh, man! Are you kidding me? You aren't gonna get that dude. This isn't some street punk you're going after. This guy's smart. And he's good. You know what I'm telling you?"

She looked at me. "Connie says _you're_ good."

I was, but I wasn't the one going after him. "There's me, and then there's you, and you aren't ever going to be as good as me, Sweet Thing." Not without all the years of hard training I went through, but I couldn't see Stephanie Plum doing that any time soon.

Her brow set determinedly, and she leaned forward across the table. Wonder if she knew that gave me a better view of her assets?

"Let me make my position clear to you. I'm out of work. I've had my car repossessed, my refrigerator is empty, I'm going to get kicked out of my apartment, and my feet don't fit in these shoes. I haven't got a lot of energy to waste socialising. Are you going to help me or what?"

I grinned at her rant. "This is gonna be fun. This here's gonna be like Professor Higgins and Eliza Doolittle Does Trenton."

"What do I call you?"

A thousand names I'd been called flashed through my head. Everything from my everyday names to things my ex-wife used to call me, which in itself ranged from 'Sweetheart' to things I wouldn't want to be called in a lifetime. I shuddered internally at the memory. My daughter shouldn't have had to hear some of those things. I wished more than anything she hadn't.

I thought back to the situation at hand quickly, barely taking an instant for the multitude of thoughts to cross my mind. I was going to be working with her, so I decided on what those I work with call me. There were very few people who called me anything else.

"My street name. Ranger."


	2. Talks of Morelli

_I thought back to the situation at hand quickly, barely taking an instant for the multitude of thoughts to cross my mind. I was going to be working with her, so I decided on what those I work with call me. There were very few people who called me anything else._

"_My street name. Ranger."_

Chapter Two

Taking her bond agreement from across the table, I scanned all the paperwork she had on Morelli. Basic facts on him, bail set at 100,000 dollars, pretty standard for a murder, especially a cop. There were a bunch of photos – mug shots from Morelli's booking and some other miscellaneous photographs – and some newspaper articles about the murder clipped to the front.

"You do anything on this yet?" I asked her. "You check out his apartment?"

"He wasn't there, but I got lucky and found him in an apartment on State Street. I got there just as he was leaving."

"And?" Please say she didn't just let him go, please say she did _something_…

"He left." This coming from the person who thinks she's going to bring him in.

"Shit. Didn't anybody tell you that you were supposed to stop him?"

"I asked him to come to the police station with me, but he didn't want to." I couldn't help but laugh at this. I can imagine he didn't particularly want to go in, not if he was going to get charged with murder.

"I don't suppose you've got a gun?" I asked.

"You think I should get one?" If you want to be a bounty hunter, _yes_. If I wasn't already still beaming, I would've done at that.

"Might be a good idea." I finished reading the bond agreement. "Morelli offed a guy named Ziggy Kulesza. Used his personal piece to put a .45 hydroshock between Ziggy's eyes at close range." One of Lester's favourite guns. I looked up at her. "You know anything about guns?"

"I know I don't like them."

"A .45 hydroshock goes in nice and neat, but when it comes out it makes a hole the size of a potato. You end up with brains all over the place. Ziggy's head probably exploded like an egg in a microwave."

"Gee, I'm glad you shared that with me." Stephanie replied.

My smile was back again. This was going to be fun working with her. "I figured you'd want to know." How could I not have told her? That would've taken all the fun out of it. I tipped back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. "You know any of the background on this case?"

"According to newspaper articles Morty Beyers clipped to the bond agreement, the shooting took place late at night a little over a month ago in an apartment building on Shaw. Morelli was off duty and had gone to visit Carmen Sanchez. Morelli claimed Carmen had called him concerning a police matter, that he'd responded, and that when he got to Carmen's apartment, Ziggy Kulesza answered the door and drew on him. Morelli claimed he shot Ziggy in self-defence.

"Carmen's neighbours told a different story. Several of them rushed into the hall at the sound of gunfire and found Morelli standing over Kulesza with a smoking gun. One of the tenants subdued Morelli until the police arrived. None of the tenants could remember seeing a gun in Ziggy's hand, and the immediate investigation didn't turn up any evidence that Ziggy had been armed.

"Morelli had placed a second man in Carmen's apartment at the time of the shooting, and three of the tenants remembered seeing an unfamiliar face, but the man apparently disappeared before the police came on the scene."

"And what about Carmen?" I asked.

"No one could remember seeing Carmen. The last article was written a week after the shooting, and as of that date, Carmen still hadn't surfaced."

I nodded. "You know anything else?"

"That's about it."

"The guy Morelli shot worked for Benito Ramirez. The name mean anything?"

"Ramirez is a boxer." Stephanie replied.

"More than a boxer. He's a fucking wonder. Heavyweight. The biggest thing to happen to Trenton since George shafted the Hessians. Trains in a gym on Stark Street. Ziggy used to stick to Ramirez like white on rice. Sometimes Ziggy'd do some sparring. Mostly Ramirez kept him on as a gofer and a bodyguard."

"There any word on the street about why Morelli shot Kulesza?"

I looked at her for a moment. "None. But Morelli must have had a good reason. Morelli's a cool guy, and if a cop wants to pop someone, there are ways."

"Even cool cops make mistakes."

"Not like this, babe. Not Morelli."

"So what are you telling me?"

"I'm telling you to be careful."

I saw a flicker of doubt cross Stephanie's features. I could tell she was scared of bringing down a murderer, especially as it wouldn't be easy. But there was also a shadow of something else. Like she almost didn't want Morelli to go to prison at all.

"You still want to tag him?" I asked her.

Stephanie didn't say anything, the doubt clear on her face.

"If you don't, someone else will," I told her. "That's something you learn. And, you got no business making judgements. You just do your job, and bring the man in. Got to trust in the system." This was something important I'd learnt early on, and made my job feel a hell of a lot easier. I didn't see the point in making her learn that for herself too. Sure there were points I didn't agree with, but there were ways to get round most of those.

"Do you trust the system?"

"Beats the shit out of anarchy."

"There's a lot of money involved here." Stephanie said. "If you're so good, why didn't Vinnie give Morelli to you? Why did he originally give him to Morty Beyers?"

"Vinnie moves in mysterious ways." I replied.

"Anything else I should know about Morelli?"

"If you want your money, you better find your man fast. Rumour has it the judicial system is the least of his problems."

"Are you telling me there's a contract out on him?"

I made a gun sign with my hand. "Bang."

"You sure about this rumour?"

I shrugged. "Just repeating what I heard." And what I hear tends to be pretty accurate most of the time.

"The plot thickens."

A smile tugged at the side of my mouth, but I pushed it away. "Like I said before, you don't care about the plot. Your job is simple. Find the man, bring him in."

"Do you think I can do it?" Stephanie asked me.

Truthfully? "No." This was Morelli we're talking about.

"Will you help me anyway?"

I smiled mentally. "Long as you don't tell nobody. Wouldn't want to tarnish my image by looking like a good guy."

She nodded. "Okay, where do I begin?"

One badass bounty hunter, coming up. "First thing we need to do is get you outfitted. And while we collect your hardware, I'm gonna tell you about the law."

"This isn't going to be expensive, is it?"

"My time and knowledge are coming to you for free of charge because I like you, and I always wanted to be Professor Higgins, but handcuffs cost 40 dollars a pair. You got plastic?"

Stephanie paused, thinking. She decided on this job at least partly for the money. Meaning she didn't have a lot of it spare. I could see her reach a conclusion.

"I have a few dollars set aside."

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Forgot this when I uploaded the first chapter, but I don't own any of this, except maybe the occasional Ranger thought. Even the plot's Janet's! I think she's selfish, taking both Morelli _and_ Ranger. If only she would just keep Morelli... 

Please read andreview!


	3. BEA Paraphernalia

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Sorry this has taken so long, I've had a lot of work to do recently :( And in reply to ping's review, yes I am planning to write the whole novel eventually. I got the idea from Melathwen trying to get me to write the shower scene from Ranger's POV, and it just kind of spread. And you can thank Mela's nagging for this chapter too…

* * *

_Stephanie paused, thinking. She decided on this job at least partly for the money. Meaning she didn't have a lot of it spare. I could see her reach a conclusion._

"_I have a few dollars set aside."_

**Chapter 3**

After we finished lunch, I took Stephanie over to Sunny's to pick up some things she'd definitely need to survive as a bounty hunter. Sunny was a woman in her forties, who had set up a gun shop when she'd moved to Trenton twenty years ago. Most of the artillery I used came from a contractor I used to supply RangeMan, but occasionally, when I needed something on short notice or was trying out some new weaponry or ammo I didn't want in mass supplies, I got it from Sunny. She was open most of the time, and legal without asking questions or passing anything on. She also owned a gun range next to the shop, which I thought Stephanie may need, especially as she didn't even carry.

Leaving the Nova parked outside Frailoli's, we took my truck over to Sunny's, leaving it in an alley that ran between Sunny's and the next door business, parked facing the street, just in case. We got out of the truck together, and I steered her into Sunny's with one hand on the small of her back. I nodded to Sunny as we entered, and she moved along the back of the counter to stand in front of us.

"Ranger," she nodded back. "What do you need?"

"This is Stephanie Plum. Stephanie, this is Sunny. She owns this place." I said, introducing the two women. "Stephanie's looking to buy a hand gun."

Sunny looked over at Stephanie, before reaching underneath the counter and producing various different pistols, placing them on the counter and addressing Stephanie.

"Sure thing, hon. What kind of gun you looking for?"

"Uh…" Stephanie stuttered. I looked down at her, then indicated at the various guns.

"If you don't have much experience with guns," I said, "you should probably go with a revolver or a semi-automatic. Easy to use, easy to carry. Semi-automatics are slightly easier to use, but you should be able to cope with a revolver fine as well. You can get a decent revolver for around 400 dollars; semi-automatics expect to pay a little more."

"Um…a revolver sounds good then."

Sunny smiled at her. "Sure thing. We got several different makes, each in several different models." Sunny went on to talk about each of them, but from the look on Stephanie's face, she didn't know that much about guns, and pretty much most of the words went over her head. By the time Sunny had finished talking, Stephanie looked slightly more confused and no nearer to making a decision.

"Go for a Smith and Wesson," I said. "They're reliable and don't have that much kick when you fire." I had the sudden image of Stephanie firing a gun for the first time, and being knocked on her ass from the force of it. Then I remembered Tank doing the same thing years ago. I almost smiled. A Smith and Wesson sounded like a good idea. "A .38 would be the best for you, babe."

Stephanie looked relieved at having someone who knew enough about guns to make a decision with her, and started to chat to Sunny about the slight differences in the models. I wasn't overly concerned about which one she got – any of them would do fine now that I'd narrowed it down this much, and everything else was just personal preference. She ended up choosing one with a stainless steel frame and carved wood gripes, model 60 of the ones I'd picked out for her. It seemed to suit her – not as powerful as some of the other guns, but small and prettier than most, with its wood gripping, and would get the job done just as well.

Stephanie paid for the gun, bought some ammo and handcuffs at my instruction, then trooped over to the gun range so she could learn how to shoot. Steph was running out of money fast, and I could see she was worried about how much everything had cost her so far. I was hardly ever short of money now, ever since RangeMan really kicked off, but I could still remember clearly exactly what it was like to wonder whether you could afford it every time you bought something. I paid the fee for the gun range and bought the ammo, and then steered her into one of the individual booths. I explained how the gun worked, slipped ear-protectors over her head and stepped back.

"Babe," I said, shaking my head and smiling very slightly when she'd finished the round. "This time try shooting with your eyes open." I stepped up behind her, and adjusted her stance. I don't know why I had started to call her babe. I'd called her it in Frailoli's, and again in the gun shop – it just suited her. She was gorgeous, with long legs and uncontrollable, sexy hair. A complete, kick-ass babe. Or soon to be, with a little help from me. The great, near invincible Manoso, playing teacher with a wannabe, girlie bounty hunter. The idea didn't really fit my image, but try everything once, right? For some reason or another, it appealed to me, the fact that this woman needed me for something other than sex. Not that that was bad, but I could get enough of that anytime.

I stepped back, and she fired again. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad idea, after all. She was an attractive woman, and her personality and general self made me smile, not such a common occurrence for me. RangeMan was a serious business, and I worked hard to keep it running and successful. While I was with Stephanie, I still acted in my street personality the rest of the world saw, but I didn't need to be threatening. When I was with Stephanie, I could relax slightly more, smile occasionally. I'd spent the last ten years steadily gaining more and more wealth, building RangeMan into a more and more respectable and known company, one of the best. I didn't need to work 24/7 anymore. Maybe this was just a way of spending my free time.

Just over forty minutes later, I dropped Stephanie back at the curb outside Frailoli's. She still didn't like the idea of carrying a gun, but at least now she had one and knew how to use it. I still had doubts about whether she'd be able to use it when the time came. Having not grown up in a particularly good neighbourhood and after years training in the army and elsewhere, I had no problems with guns. It was looking back, and wondering whether you'd done the right thing that was the hard part.


End file.
